


Blinded Me with Science

by gritsinmisery



Series: Nyssa [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Abduction, F/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-27
Updated: 2010-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gritsinmisery/pseuds/gritsinmisery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master has an assistant to help him create the Toclafane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blinded Me with Science

**Author's Note:**

> Begins after New-Who S3E12 _Utopia_, continues into The-Year-That-Wasn't in S03E13 _Last of the Time Lords_.
> 
> Original version created for the anon-pr0n meme at the LJ comm **best_enemies**.  Yeah, it's not really pr0n-y.  Sue me.  
> Mad props to **x_los**, not only for beta-ing but for helping me plot.  She's been Nyssa to my Master, poor thing.

Blinded Me with Science

Rassilon knows he’d had a few complicated schemes in his time. This one, for example, required so much planning, and engineering, and worst of all was the waiting – waiting for foregone election results, waiting the Doctor to appear, waiting for the paradox machine to kick in – but everything went off perfectly.  Now the Earth was his to destroy, when and how he chose. But this particular part of that complicated scheme… Ah, it was simplicity itself.

The Doctor might have locked the TARDIS controls so that it would only travel between two times, but oh, the places he could go in those two times.  Of course he went to Utopia rather than Malcassairo; there was nothing he wanted on the latter any more, and plenty he’d prefer to forget. 

Anyway, the Toclafane weren’t a one-trip project, especially not when he was also busy introducing the absolute hopelessness of everything to dear, delicate Lucy.  They also were not a project he could handle on his own.  Oh, the Rani could have helped him, might even have been persuaded to.  But even before the Doctor admitted it, he could tell just by “listening” that she was gone with the rest of their race.  Pity.  They had managed well together, despite all the notes on both of their Academy records that had boiled down to “does not play well with others.”

But he knew of someone else who could assist him with the project.  This someone could provide the “bio-“ to his “-mechanical” and was naïve enough not to realize what had been created until it was too late.  He knew exactly what training she’d had, better yet what emotional traumas she’d suffered, and thanks to one of the several run-ins he’d had with the Doctor before his unfortunate and rather intimate encounter with the Eye of Harmony, he knew she was also residing at the end of time.

So when he materialized that wretched Type-40 in her lab, she’d looked up with surprise, which turned rapidly into delight.  When she asked, “Doctor?” he simply held out his hand and replied, “I need your help to save another race.”  She dropped everything, took his hand, and walked into the TARDIS.  Then he took her to Utopia.

She accepted any deviation from what she thought the Doctor should be with a simple “different regeneration; different personality.”  After all, she’d seen the Doctor regenerate before.  Any objections she had to the extreme changes they were making in the race were quieted with the assurance that “it’s the only way to save them,” and she turned a blind eye to some of the things he installed in the shells. 

She looked at him with such worship in her eyes. He found it quite gratifying, until he remembered who she thought he was.  That’s when he thought of an even better second use for her than just as a babysitter for his precious children until the paradox brought them to Earth.

On his last visit to Utopia before he turned the TARDIS into the paradox machine, he instructed the Toclafane on coming through the rift.  Then he brought her back with him to the _Valiant_, tucking her away in a windowless lab on board and explaining her presence to everyone else as a new scientific assistant to UNIT, working with a deadly disease that required her strict quarantine.  That kept her isolated, and she was right where he needed her when the fun started a few days later.

Now, as they sailed through the sky and his children burned and slaughtered their way across the planet beneath them, he made sure to work with her in the lab daily, mending damaged Toclafane, making improvements in their bio-mechanical interfaces.  Day-by-day the conversation became more personal, the praise more effusive, the accidental touches more frequent.  He watched the love in her eyes grow, not caring if it was hero-worship or even an Electra complex (but oh, wouldn’t the latter be delicious?)

One day, he “broke down” and told her of the Time War and the device that had wiped two races from space and time, except for the wretched creature who had to push the button.  He confessed how lonely and empty he was as the last of his kind, but how working with her to save the human race had filled his emptiness, and how much he had come to admire and even, well… love her.  She kissed him then – he didn’t even have to use Archangel to nudge her along – and led him next door to her sleeping quarters.

He employed all the things he learned from wooing and managing Lucy during those first 18 months on Earth: the soft touches and words to use while undressing her, the strokes and kisses to make her quiver like a plucked string, the way to slide carefully into one unused to such an invasion, and the appreciative noises and faces to make even though he really didn’t give a damn about the being beneath him.

During all of this -- the impassioned speech, the kiss, the slow undressing, the long lovemaking, her calling out “Doctor!” as she came with him grinning maniacally above her closed eyes – the hidden cameras ran.  
   
And in a cell in another part of the ship, bound so he could not move, an old man sat and stared at the feed in horror, simply repeating one word.

“Nyssa?”


End file.
